


Candlelight

by coldairballoons



Category: Edgar Allan Poe's Murder Mystery Dinner Party (Web Series)
Genre: Candles, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Minor Injuries, Tenderness, it's not completely canon but shh, partial AU, this is not so loosely based on a tiktok cosplay i did
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:13:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24351901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coldairballoons/pseuds/coldairballoons
Summary: In an effort to discover the identity of the murderer in the Poe household, Edgar and HG Wells make their way up to the attic, where confessions are inevitable.
Relationships: HG Wells/Edgar Allan Poe
Comments: 6
Kudos: 20





	Candlelight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Theo. You know who you are.](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Theo.+You+know+who+you+are.).



> Purely self indulgent. I regret nothing.

It was far dustier in the attic than had been expected, Edgar had to admit to himself as he led the way up the ladder with a candle and a certain inventor trailing behind him. Technically, yes, there should have been some dust, but with Lenore’s extra help, he’d assumed that there was going to be exponentially less of a mess than there was.

“Right up here.” Edgar pulled himself up into the attic, dusting his hand that wasn’t holding the candle off on his pants, then offering it to HG… HG? Wells? H? He wasn’t sure what to call the other man, even after, well, a short dinner conversation that was mainly filled with suspicion and panic from the other guests.

HG took his hand, pulling himself up into the attic alongside Edgar, and, oh, he hadn’t been expecting how rough and calloused his hands truly were. It wasn’t a complaint in the slightest, it was… nice. An almost stark contrast to his soft, callous free hands. “I… yes, I’ve been up here before.”

Oh. Oh, right. “Yes, I… yes. Right.” Edgar awkwardly cleared his throat, glancing around the attic, before his eyes landed on the machine HG had brought inside earlier. He raised an eyebrow, glancing at the other man. “You left it up here?”

“Took up space downstairs,” HG said softly, simply, in that gentle voice of his, “and it seems as though no one would want to test it out any further, so I figured here would be quite as good a place as any.” There was a little disappointment in his voice as he said it, and Edgar frowned. 

“It… seems interesting.” Edgar offered, and was rewarded with a small smile as the inventor set to work on… whatever he was doing. 

The night had taken quite a turn, if you asked Edgar honestly. He had expected a small get-together of a few famous authors, not an evening that resulted in the death of some truly amazing people. And now he was here, alone, in an attic with an inventor who was trying to help decipher the mystery of who killed the guests.

It certainly didn’t help that Edgar had begun to notice things about said inventor. For instance, how he furrowed his brow when something confused him. How his dark eyes flickered in the candlelit room, how when he got to talking about his work, a certain joy seemed to spark.

As HG worked, Edgar paced. From the couch to nearing his workspace, then repeat. Repeating once more. The red candle was slowly beginning to melt quite faster than he had anticipated, but he didn’t notice---or simply didn’t care. It truly wasn’t until a droplet of the melted wax landed on the back of Edgar’s hand that he noticed how low the candle had gotten. He cried out, dropping the candle and waving his hand in an effort to soothe the stinging. Of course, there were still other lanterns lit in the attic, and the candle had flickered out as soon as it had left his hand, but still.

“Are you alright, Edgar?” HG called out, looking up. Edgar flinched, but nodded, managing to peel the dried wax off of his hand. 

“Burned my hand.” Edgar hissed, crouching down next to HG, holding his hand near the lantern to examine the skin. “Damn candle got too low.”

In a moment, HG turned around, cradling Edgar’s hand in his own rough ones, holding it so tenderly Edgar thought he might just cry. He ran his thumb over the burnt patch, then looked up into Edgar’s eyes. “I noticed a sink up here, does the water work?”

“I… yes.” Edgar shook himself out of the trance that he may have been clearly stuck into. “Yes, the water’s working.” 

With that, HG stood up, leaving a slightly disappointed Edgar sitting alone on the floor, hand tingling in a way that certainly wasn’t because of the burn. He heard the water turn on, splash against the porcelain sink for a moment before the sound of something muffling it, a cloth, perhaps, then the sink turned off and HG was returning to kneel next to Edgar, taking his hand again and applying the cool washcloth to it.

“Where’d you find that?” Edgar asked, but HG shook his head, smiling slightly. 

“I tend to burn myself quite often while working with fuses, wires, that sort of thing.” HG replied, glancing up at Edgar. “I figured out eventually that it would be far wiser to just… carry around a rag, should I burn myself or others. It’s come in quite handy.”

“I can tell.” Edgar whispered, meeting HG’s dark eyes, sparkling in the firelight as though they themselves were the lanterns that lit the room. “Thank you, HG. It… I appreciate the help.”

HG’s rough hands were a bit shaky as he gently held Edgar’s in his own, and he smiled at the thanks. “It’s truly no problem. I’d prefer to be in here with you, anyhow. You’re far better company than those…” He couldn’t finish the statement, just shaking his head in annoyance. “I appreciate you accompanying me up here. You seem to understand me far better than the others, you make better company as well.”

Something burst in Edgar’s chest, a fluttering sensation that was in no way negative, and he looked up, smiling, at HG. “I’m glad to hear it.”

There was a beat of silence in the attic, one so prominent and profound that Edgar was in fact surprised that someone didn’t come running up the stairs, looking for them. But rather than that, after a few moments, Edgar found himself opening his mouth to speak. “You know,” he started, ignoring the lump growing in his throat. 

He had a thought, just then. A thought that would quite possibly impact all of his actions henceforth, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. “We could die today.”

HG’s breath caught in his throat, and he nodded, blinking those wide, sparkling eyes of his. “We easily could.” He said, almost tentatively. “But I feel like you’re not done yet.”

“I’m not.” Edgar admitted, then sighed, turning the hand that HG’s was still tending over, palm facing upwards, fingertips brushing the other man’s. “In case you… in case we… don’t make it out of here, HG, there are some things I need to say.”

“You can tell me anything, Edgar.”

Edgar smiled, but there was a pang of bittersweet longing deep in his stomach. Romance had never been his strong suit, not with Annabel, not with any of his previous romantic interests. HG was more than that for him, he could tell, but if things went poorly, and he lost a close friend in the process, well, Edgar would heal, but slowly.

So he resorted to exhaling slowly, eyes fluttering shut in a feign of confidence as he fully took HG’s hand, intertwining their fingers. “I believe I’m starting to… have romantic feelings for you. And in case we don’t make it out of here, in case we don’t make it through tonight, I just want you to know that.”

...well. That was far more eloquent than he had expected it to become. HG had yet to yank his hand back and spit in Edgar’s face, however, so he supposed that was a pleasant sign. “HG?”

“I…” HG whispered, but then smiled, that sweet, soft, gentle smile, and leaned in, bumping their noses together. “I have feelings for you as well, Ed. Edgar.”

Edgar huffed out a surprised laugh, unable to contain the grin that threatened to overtake his face. “You… you do?”

HG nodded, cocking his head and raising an eyebrow, much to the resemblance of a confused puppy. “Isn’t that what I just said?” Edgar nodded, slowly but surely, and HG smiled at him, before leaning in to brush his fingertips to Edgar’s cheek. 

“May I kiss you?” Edgar whispered, but HG had started to ask at the same time he had, which ended in simply a giggle of soft laughter from both of them. HG nodded ever so slightly, smiling, and looked up at the other man, pure adoration filling his eyes, the same sensation blossoming in Edgar’s chest.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Edgar leaned in, closing the gap beneath them. He could feel the slight stubble on HG’s jawline as he raised his hand to cup the inventor’s cheek, and he couldn’t help but smile into the kiss. He felt HG doing the same, and couldn’t help the bubble of laughter that crept its way up into his throat. 

HG pulled away first, grinning. “What? Was I really that bad?”

Edgar blinked, confused. “No! No, no, that was… wonderful. It’s just… we were kissing. There’s a murderer on the loose in my house and I’m kissing someone in my attic.” 

“That you are,” HG smiled, and reached up to gently trace his fingers down Edgar’s cheek, as though he was a child at an aquarium. “I’m glad, though. I was worried I would die without telling you how I feel.”

With that, it sunk in. The fact that they might not make it out alive. “Nothing’s going to happen to you, HG. I can promise you that.” Edgar said softly, but even saying it made something deep in his stomach ache. “I’ll make sure you make it out of here safe. I swear it to you.”

And as HG leaned in to kiss him once more, he knew he had more reason than ever to keep the man in his arms safe. No matter the cost.


End file.
